


forever

by orphan_account



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Loss, M/M, Memories, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-25 02:08:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16652275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "I wish I could just stopI know another moment will break my heartToo many tears, too many timesToo many years I've cried over you"





	forever

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warnings: suicide,(slight) alcoholism, self blame/guilt, repetition.
> 
> please enjoy

Waking up was always the worst part of the day, Always was and always shall. The cold, crisp air tickled the mans exposed limbs. He was about to get up when he felt it. Him.

"Mornin' muds" Not again, Murdocs face was beginning to break. He swore he could feel lanky arms around him. "Sleep well, luv?" Murdoc knew it wasn't real, some kind of trick his mind was playing on him, a way to keep him on his metaphorical toes. The voice, his voice. It came from somewhere inside him, behind his ears. Not real.

They weren't exactly memories, rather lose ends and distorted, hazy deja vu, mixed in with borderline delusions. A combination of sensations and images imprinted in his mind forever. He was unable to escape them.

It was quite sad really. Sometimes he would see a messy head of blue hair, and the hopeful little sod in him would think, just for a second, that it were him. The most recent time, it happened in public. While trying to decide what milk to buy, Murdoc had heard the jarred, lispy accent that haunted him. And when he turned around to see a young boy, grinning up at him with no front teeth, he had almost shat. Needless to say, he stopped shopping after that.

Not that it mattered much, the aging man had (unsurprisingly) swapped most solid food for booze. If he was bad before, he was horrific afterwards. Murdoc couldn't recall the last time he was truly sober; He would wake up still drunk from the night before.

This meant his days were constant, glued together like glass. Occasionally punctuated by breakdowns and total dismay. Murdoc knew he had a calendar _somewhere_ , he remembered it had been Stuarts. The theme was "Puppies + fruitz". The last time he Murdoc had seen it, it was opened to where he had left it. A horrible reminder of mortality and pain decorated with the image of a golden retriever and a pineapple.

It was one of the few belongings that Murdoc had kept. Stuarts will was cryptic, but still, most of his stuff had gone to his family. They were hard to look at, what he had kept. That fact hadn't stopped Murdoc from trying to sleep with his banjo, every shift of his body releasing a swampy note that would fill his room and his ears. He'd always hated that thing.

"What's for brekkie, muds?" He wasn't there. He was gone. _Gone._ Yet Murdoc could still see tufts of blue clouding his vision as he woke up. Silent tears fell from Murdocs face as he tried to think of anything but. But it was still there. He was still there

He could still see him. He could still see him staring up at him, black eyes glassy and filled with admiration. His pale body spread out on maroon sheets. Rib cage pronounced and the stupid smile he missed. He had looked like he could be carved onto the prow of ship. He looked like a renaissance painting, all his features done in foggy, delicate strokes.

Murdoc crumpled his face and covered his eyes, desperately trying to rub the images out of his mind, out of his head.

The dreams were always the worst.Yet strangely enough, the sick part of him almost enjoyed them. They were of salty sea mist from crashing waves, and of thin lips and crooked teeth whispering "I love you". And then we would see them. The feet.

One thing Murdoc hadn't known was that, despite what TV tells you, dead people don't look like they're asleep. He was cold and disgustingly pale when Murdoc found him. The tears streaking down on his porcelain face had begun to dry and angry, vicious red marks had started to appear around his neck. And that noise. That god-awful noise. The noise of rope creaking, of rope gently swinging and turning. It haunted him. It bounced around his head like a pinball.

He always had known it was his fault.

Murdoc didn't even bother to brush away his tears, the picture of droopy, black eyes staring down at him forever bored into his brain. Forever haunted by the image of his lovers sneakers gently swaying from side to side. He wish he he could just wash it off, get clean, scrub it all away. He just wanted it all gone.

He missed the beach. He missed him. He was the only person who had ever loved him truly and fully, the only person who had ever believed in him, He would've done anything to be back there, staring out on the deep, green sea. Miles and miles away.

His sneakers had swung softly. Left to right, left to right. And that noise, that fucking noise. When would it stop. When the fuck would this end. He could feel it. He could see the sun come up on the beach, he could feel his hands, his breath on his neck. The tears just wouldn't stop.

_left to right_

__

__

left to right

 __it was like some sick clock.

_left to right_

__

__

tick

tock

tick

tock

 __"We'll always be together"

_(make it stop)_

__

__

tick

tock

 __"Hold me like this forever and ever,"

_(please go away)_

__

__

tick

tock

 __"Never let me go"

tick 

__

__

tock

left

to

right

 __The love of his life had just hung there. Limp

  
Suddenly,he was on the beach again. And there he was, Stuart was just sitting there, calmly, as if nothing had happened. His body was bathed in beautiful golden light as he surveyed the sea before him. He donned exactly what he had been wearing, the stripey shirt and red bandanna. His mouth was in a small smile,

"Stuart, I'm so sorry"  
"It's been years, Murdoc" Murdoc was slightly thrown off. It wasn't his voice, barely a feasible parody of it. It was built on Murdocs warbled memory. His voice through a funhouse mirror, distorted.  
"We left the beach years ago" His glossy black eyes reflected the calm waters below them. It was so serene

And then

tick 

__

__

tock

tick

tock

left

right

left

right

 __Murdoc would never forget how Stuart had looked, slowly swaying, from side to side

_side_

 _to_

__

__

_side_

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed.  
> feedback is greatly appreciated (please tell me about any mistakes, as i don't exactly have diligent eyes)
> 
> edit: which one of yall motherfuckers put this on a flop account


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